At home they’ve rowed the barley straw

they’ll aim to bale today;

so long now since

green May.

For darkening days

are here again,

more than mist,

not quite rain.

And there’s a spell

I’d wanted to persist —

though times push past

as the minutes, days and weeks insist.

But who lives in the real

world? So quicken it anew.

Return, replace, repair,

reconstitute, renew.

Turn up the sun!

And put the leaves back

on the trees.

Let river reins hang slack.

Wash the sky

a brighter blue.

Give back to swans

their downy retinue.

Add notes

to summer birds’ refrain.

Re-ignite the embers

of rhododendron, Golden Rain.

Resurrect, resuscitate.

Refresh and renovate.

Retrieve, regain and re-install,

translate

everything again. Restore

light moments to the day —

nothing can steal

this while away.